You Are Mine
by AlannaVoltaire
Summary: You find your dream boy... or so you think. The people around you are telling you to be cautious, that he's no good, but he makes you feel like the most perfect person in the world. What would you do? Follow your friends, or follow your heart?


p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" Kaitlin's POV/p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I was casually walking down the street, staring. I do that often. I had my phone in my pocket, with my ear-buds attached, playing a song on repeat. Reprobate Romance by Blacklisted Me. I loved this song. I usually listened to more "hardcore music", but this song really spoke to me. In fact, I was trying to think about why that song spoke to me as I ran into the wooden post of a power line. "Ow! Holy hell!" I exclaimed as I fell flat on my bottom. "Gods! Mother fucking! Ugh!" I cursed at myself as I sat there for a minute, hoping to God no one saw that. I was such a cluts.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Hey, are you okay?" A silky smooth slightly accented male voice said as a hand extended into my view, helping me to my feet. I led my eyes up the arm, stopping briefly on this tattoo on his forearm. It was a very detailed skull with a snake coming out of it's eye and a heart poking out from behind it, with a golden lock in the center of the heart. It was quite beautiful artwork. My eyes trailed the rest of the way up the arm, until I was face to face with one of the best looking guys I've ever seem. It was like he stepped right out of my computer screen. As if I had Google Imaged him.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" He was easily over six feet tall. He has this fantastic "flippy emo boy" dark brown, almost black, hair that framed his slim face exquisitely. He had skinny, but soft slightly red looking lips which stood out on his face because of his pale skin. This yummy boy also had a piercing on the left side of his mouth, one those loop rings that go over your lip. The killer, though, was his deep emerald green eyes that you could just get lost in for hours.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I realised I was staring and tried, unsuccessfully, to seem cool. "I.. uh... Yeah. I'm okay." emWow. Good going girl. That was real smooth. He probably thinks you are an idiot.em I thought to myself./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Good. You took a pretty nasty fall there." He said brushing my hair behind my ear. "Try not to do that again." Gods, I could just melt right now. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Yeah. Thank you." I said. Just then a thought came to mind. I've lived in this town almost my whole life and I know of pretty much everyone. I'm never met this kid before. I've never even seen him. I am positive I'd remember a guy that looked like he did wandering around here. "Hey, I've never seen you here before. Are you like visiting family?" I really wanted to start a conversation with this kid and get to know him.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Actually, my dad and I just moved here. We moved in our house a couple days ago and I just had the chance to wander around and get to know the place." He flashed the most perfect white teeth ever at me. This kid could be a freaking model. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Oh really?" My interest spiked. "Where from?" p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "I've spent the last couple years living in England actually." He slightly chuckled "Believe it or not. We were up there to be with my family." p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Wow. Why on Earth would you move here from a place like England?" I said gesturing around me at our surroundings. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "My dad wanted a change of pace. He wanted a place far away from..." He trailed off looking sad. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Are you okay?" I looked at him. I was worried I'd said something to upset him.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Oh yeah." He perked right back up. "Hey, I got to go. You go to the high school right? Maybe I'll see you there." p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Oh yeah you will. What grade are you in?" I said a little disappointed that he was leaving.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "I'm a junior. The name's Jackson. Jackson Ridley." He smiled again. "What about you?"p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Kaitlin. Kaitlin Vines." I said trying to imitate him. "I'm a freshman." I was for some reason worried he wouldn't want to talk to me anymore since he found out I'm a dumb freshman.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Cool." was all he said. "I'll see you at school then. It will be good to know someone going into the school. I won't be totally alone." I had a feeling Jackson wouldn't have to much trouble making friends, with the girls at least. I estimate that he will stay single for a week before someone asks him out.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Okie dokie. Bye then. See you at school." I said as a weak response as he got on his skateboard, that I didn't even notice he had, and rode off near the park. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I turned my music that I hadn't even noticed when it stopped back on and continued walking down the side walk, being careful to avoid any more posts. I tried to take my mind off of this Jackson character by counting the cracks in the sidewalk. emWow. There are a lot of cracks. Someone really needs to repair this sidewalk. emI thought to myself as I got to over one hundred in only seven blocks. Jackson has some nerve riding a skateboard on this. He is going to be the next one to fall if he makes one wrong move on this stuff. /p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" Eventually, I walked past the railroad tracks, which signaled I was almost back to my house. emGreat.em I thought to myself. emTime to get bitched at by my step mother./em I was not looking forward to getting back. I had left for a walk when technically I wasn't supposed to. She wan't me to stay home and babysit her bratty little devils. She had two sons who were twins and they both tried to make it their personal goal to ruin my life./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I could see my house at the end of the block. I said house and not home for reason. That house was not a home. Since my dad was always working, so he could afford the stupid thing, I was always there with his new wife and her sons. When Jennifer, the step-ho, wasn't home and it was just Micheal and Caleb, the twins, I want to just drink some bleach and get it over with. It was horrendous. The house itself wasn't bad. It was a nice little two-story number. My room and the twins' room was upstairs. There was also two bathrooms and a home office upstairs too. Since there was two bathrooms, I got my own and didn't have to share with the boys. Thank the Lord. When we first moved in, I pleaded with my dad to get a lock on my bathroom and bedroom doors because the idiot twins kept coming in and out like it was their room. Eventually he gave in and I now have key locks on both of the doors. I have the only copy of the keys, which wear on a chain around my neck every day, as to prevent Micheal and Caleb from entering my domain. Downstairs you have your basic house stuff, a living, kitchen, bathroom, washroom for your washer and dryer, and the parents master bedroom with it's own little half bathroom. The house was nice, clean, and well decorated. If you didn't know any better, you might think a loving, close-knit, even church going family might live there. The yard was well maintained with a couple of weeping willows out front and additional flower beds and bushes. The front door was a darker wood with a stain glass window in it. Our house was the kind you see in catalogues. The ones that people dream of having, but could never actually afford. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" You might consider me lucky to have this. At first I did too, but it is all just smoke and mirrors as to what it really looks like. I feel like Cinderella sometimes (minus the Prince Charming) because I have to do everything. Basically how my house runs is that my father is never home and the step-ho works from the home office as like a website designer. The twins always have a band of their evil little friends over who are loud, obnoxious, and generally make a mess. The twins being only eight years old aren't made to be responsible. Jennifer spoils them and always has me cleaning up after them. "They're too young to know better." she always claims, but really she doesn't like me. She never has. I've heard her talking to my dad at night about sending me to boarding school. She says I'm "out of control" and "can' t be managed". It's ridiculous is what it is.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" As I walk up the concrete steps of doom, I stop for a second, preparing myself for chaos and yelling. "Well... here we go again." I whisper to myself.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I open the door and step in quietly. If I'm lucky I'll be able to get up to my room without anyone noticing I'm home yet. I walk over to the staircase and get about half way up it when if creaks and I hear the step-ho's voice from the kitchen. "Kaitlin? Is that you? Do you have any idea what time it is?" her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to my ears.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I sigh before answering. "Yeah. It's me. I've just come through the door." I was hoping this would be suitable enough for her and I could just go up to my room and get ready for a shower.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I see her come out of the kitchen wiping her hands and looking very distressed, almost like she was concerned about where I was. "Why on Earth did you go out?" she says using what she refers to as her stern voice. It scares the daylights out of the twin, but I'm not so easily shaken. "I told you I wanted you here to watch your brothers. I rarely get time away from them and I wanted to go to the cinema or something to wind down." She was unbelievable. I practically raise her kids against my will and she goes out almost every other night. I was not in the mood to deal with her fake home maker routine tonight. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "I am perfectly aware that you wanted me to stay here. I didn't want to. And those little rodents are not my brothers. I don't have any and I don't want any." I know that when I say those aren't my brothers she gets all steamed up. I was waiting for the fire. I almost wanted it.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "Young lady you watch your tone. I will not have to giving me this kind of attitude in my own home. You WILL be kind to your brothers and you WILL respect your mother." With everything she said, I could hear her getting more and more agitated. emHow far can I take this?em I wondered to myself. I think of this almost like a game./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" "It's hard to respect my mother when she is dead." emOkay... maybe that was a bit too far. Oh well, too late now. emI braced for her reply./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" Her face got beet red and she threw her towel down on the floor. "Now you listen here you little bitch!" and Huston we have lift off. I brought her out of her Happy Home Maker Mode and into who she really was. "You better knock this shit off before I knock you... out! I have had it up to here with you and your fucking bullshit. We all know that if you make me cross some lines, I'll cry to your father and your ass will be grass! Now if you are quite fucking finished, march your snide little ass right upstairs and keep your mouth shut! I don't want to see your ugly ass face for the rest of the evening! Do I make myself clear?"p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" Okay... I had gone to far. She did have a point though. My dad always listened to her over me and if she brought out the great waterworks, I wouldn't stand a chance. It was probably best for my own health to go upstairs. Enlightened self interest. I wasn't giving in, just saving my own skin. I was not going to go out without being a smart alack about it though. With a cheeky grin I said "As and unmuddy lake. As clear as the azure sky on a bright Summer morning." I attempted to quote one of my favorite movies, Clockwork Orange. I'm not sure how close I was to what the main character, Alex, says but I doubt she'll know the reference.p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" She just stamped her foot and pointed up the stairs in response. I merrily skipped up the stairs humming "Singing in the Rain" just to add fuel to the fire. When I got up to my room, I slammed the door and locked it just to make sure she didn't come up here with more words to say. I hated her, specifically her voice. Jennifer had a Southern accent, seeing as she crawled up from Louisiana. She didn't have a smooth and (depending on the person) sexy Southern accent though. Her voice was high pitched and raspy from when she used to smoke a lot. She was a skinny, almost to the point of anorexia, woman. I honestly don't see how she is at a healthy weight. She has bleach blonde hair, that obviously is a dye job no matter how much she wants to say she is a natural blonde, and pale hazel eyes. Jennifer always curled her hair at the ends and then put it up in a loose bun. On top of that she wore too much make up every single day. I've been in her bathroom and looked through her make up box (yes a whole box and not just a small bag). She has several different types and colours of mascara, eyeliner, blushes, eye shadows, and lipsticks. Her box is also littered with concealer, foundation, powder, and bronzer. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" Her morning make up routine consists of foundation, concealer (if there is really a different), translucent powder to set it, then bronzing powder to make her more tan and then contour stuff to make her cheek bones pop out. After that, she puts on bottom and top eyeliner and either gold or pinkish eye shadow normally, followed by two different types of mascara. "One for volume and one for length" she says. But it doesn't end there, as she then puts on blush and eyebrow pencil. To top the whole thing off she puts on this bright, firetruck red lipstick in a generous amount. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" emGeez, this woman is more make up than woman.em I thought to myself when I first watched her do it./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I was sitting on my bed blasting some Five Finger Death Punch on my laptop, not caring if the step-ho had a problem with it or not. She always said my music was "inappropriate for younger children" in reference to her "little angels" she calls sons. p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" I looked over at my alarm clock. "7:38." I said out loud to myself. "I might as well take that shower now. It doesn't look like I have anything else to do." I rolled off my bed and went to my closet. I pulled out a pair of black spandex shorts and a Black Sabbath band shirt. emThis will doemem./em I thought to myself as I headed out of my room, careful to lock the door behind me, and went to my bathroom. I quickly plugged in my phone to it's charger and put some music on. I turned on the shower to get it heating up while I undressed./p  
>p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;" After I discarded my clothing and hopped into the little glass box I had, I felt instantly better. I could feel the hot water cascading down my body and loosening up all my muscles. I let in run on my face and chest, loving how soothing it was. emGods I needed this.em I thought to myself./p 


End file.
